Good Night, Sleep Tight!
by 4thSmalley
Summary: What happens when the power fails and Freddy comes for you? A quick one-shot following the fate of Mike Schmidt (you in the game) when he fails to make it through night 5. So AU of a sort seeing as he dies and I've created a back story for him. M for slightly gruesome character death and a lot of swearing (wouldn't you if you were going to die?)


**Goodnight, Sleep Tight!**

"shitshitshitshitshit! Please! Just two hours left!" I whimpered at the power bar.

I had hated this job as soon as I had walked through the door of my first night, even before I had reached the office and received that frankly disturbing voice recording. Animatronic figures had never been my kind of thing, the false smiles and sightless eyes had always set me on edge as a child and I had never enjoyed visiting these kinds of places. Eventually the constant enforced trips to various child entertainment facilities for birthday parties had cured me mostly of this phobia and I had learnt to ignore the shiver that ran up my spine every time I looked at those machines.

I didn't want this job but I _did_ need the money. Despite my parent's desperate scrounging to pay for my college education I was forced to work during the summer vacation to be able to eat whilst away from home, and this job was the best paying one in the area.

So on the Monday of my first week of work I arrived at 11.50pm for a quick tour by the dayshift guard before he left me in the office and locked me in. Straight away that sent shivers down my spine; this place had given me the creeps as a child in the daytime without being locked in here in the dark. I hadn't had much of a chance to do more than sit down and examine my security gear before the phone started ringing, then it answered itself.

Seriously, the animatronic figures moved around at night? I checked the cameras when I heard that, and the 'cute and cuddly' bear didn't look half as innocent anymore. The bite of '87? Forceful stuffing into a suit? What the hell was this place? And who the hell would run such an establishment that only gave you a certain amount of power to use when confronting murderous robots?

I almost crapped myself the first time I saw Bonnie at the door, and it was only through panicky flailing that I managed to seal the door. Chica also made it down the other corridor to pay a visit, but this time I caught her just up the corridor a little way and I was slightly more prepared for her manic face as it appeared at the door. I was down to 8% power by the time the clock ticked over to 6am. As soon as I heard the rattling of keys on the outer doors I was out of that office with my bag on my shoulder and I practically broke through the glass window to get out.

The second night and the appearance of Foxy scared ten years off of my life expectancy. By the third night I was a nervous wreck, both at home and at work. If it wasn't for the fact that I had signed a contract that stated I could not quit in my first week I would have been on the first train out of the state. Those dratted phone calls from the previous night guard didn't help my mood each night either. The guy didn't sound half as confident as the nights progressed as he did on the first night. I wanted to weep when I heard him being caught on the fourth night, I had heard that innocent yet horrifying tune at the end of my third night and it is the worst sound you could ever imagine. I burnt my childhood teddy as soon as I got home from that shift because of the music box within its tummy. The tune was completely different but any kind of lullaby tune was bad enough right now.

Fifth night, I had managed the week and I was six hours away from never having to work here again. I would rather live off bread and butter for the entirety of term than spend another day in this living hell.

It was going so well. Foxy had been good and only once attempted to run at me, and Freddy seemed to be almost lazily dominating the stage.

However the same couldn't be said for the two other fuckers. Chica seemed to be revelling in flitting between rooms before taking up residence outside of my right doorway. Then that bastard Bonnie thought it would be a good idea to give me a heart attack outside the left door.

I had gotten really good at conserving power as the week had slowly passed, on the fourth night I had still had 10% left as the bell had chimed. Today I wasn't so lucky.

"If you leave me alone I'll lock a tonne of other people in here next week for you to play with," I begged futilely at the dead eyes staring back at me through the security camera in the backstage room.

I hadn't really paid much attention to the other heads in that room before, but you couldn't exactly ignore them now that they all seemed to be staring straight at me too.

5% power and Chica was back again. I was tempted to knock out the light and fan in the office to try to save power. What else could I do?

5.41am and the power died.

"Fuck…" I stared at the black screen in front of me; my fate hadn't yet sunk in.

Then the music started up.

"No, fuck right off! You can't kill me, I'm not even 21 yet!" I screamed and slapped my palm on the control for the door.

The bear ignored my pleas and merely continued to grin at me.

5.46am and the music stopped. My stomach unclenched a miniscule amount before it sank even further.

When Freddy leapt at me I screamed like a little bitch.

**_. . . . . . . . . ._**

**_Why do they scream? They are without a suit and that is against the rules, don't they know that?_**

_He'll join us too and join our game! It'll be fun! This game of hide and seek has been fun but it is a little boring now. Perhaps he will play something new tomorrow when he has his new outfit too!_

**_For an endoskeleton he is a little squishy, perhaps it is a new upgrade to protect the wiring? If it is why haven't they upgraded us too?_**

_Hey look he is crying! He's laughing too, perhaps he enjoys being tickled? Maybe we should get the other three here and they can join in this new game._

**_They haven't ironed out all the kinks with this new design, the surface material breaks a little too easily. If it had been built back when we were allowed to roam the children would have ripped it to shreds. _**

_Oh no, we made him bleed! Perhaps we should kiss him better? No, only Mummy's can do that and he wouldn't like us treating him like a baby. His new costume will help stop the bleeding though, we should get him into that as soon as possible._

**_This new endoskeleton design is strong though, the suit should be strong enough to make up for the problems with the surface material breaking. Perhaps they intend to let us roam again? I hope so. We need to get it installed so that we can test him and show them that we can manage roaming in the day once more._**

_**. . . . . . . . . . **_

"Please no, I don't want to die!" I scream and sob as the musty hands close around my arm and shoulder.

The suit must be almost as old as I am, and up close the smell is bad enough to confirm that thought. I can feel the servos working in the hand clenching it even tighter around my arm and causing the poorly maintained fabric to crackle.

"Oh shit, is that blood? Please tell me those aren't teeth?" I could actually see right into the costume now.

Under the fake glass eyes there seemed to be an odd smudge. To anyone else looking from a distance you could forgive them for thinking it was merely oil or lubricant leaking out from where it kept the parts moving. But now that I am practically being hugged by the Care Bear of Death I can see it is dried and set as a dark colour, rather than it being a fresh spill.

I had seen the two sets of teeth these beasties owned before, one of the mask and another set of the inner skeleton that helped create the illusion of a human hiding within the suit. I doubt anyone else had looked close enough to see the couple of odd white spots deep in the throat of the bear. They are small, not even big enough to be adult's teeth.

Oh hell, please don't say what I'm thinking is true.

Somehow the bear manages to scratch my arm, badly. It hurts like hell but in the grand scheme of things it is probably the least of my worries right now. And right now it helps me. Freddy lets go of my arm to get a better hold on me on my other shoulder. I take this opportunity to grab a hold of the doorframe as the bear forcefully drags me from the room.

"Freddy, kid, whoever is in control of you, let me go please! I want to be a teacher, not stuck as a fucking giant toy singing in a fucking playhouse for eternity," I shouted.

I thought I was doing pretty well in holding onto doorframe and stalling for time, until the sounds of thumping feet started to echo down the hall.

Bonnie, I knew that bastard had it in for me. Freddy has my shoulders, and Bonnie grabs my legs. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse that horrifying bouncing chuckle started up.

Foxy is coming.

My left shoulder drops for a second as Freddy lets go, but then a new hand grabs it. Foxy has joined in the 'fun'.

I'm being bodily carried up the corridor away from my now useless sanctuary towards the party room. Chica appears from my office. I assume she had walked down the right hand corridor and round to look at my terrified face as the other three carry me. The bitch is holding that fucking cake out towards me as if cheerily offering it to me to eat. If I come back as a poltergeist I am burning this fucking building to the ground with her in it.

We pass the Pirate's Cove, now with the curtains wide open as it no longer had to hide its occupant. I uselessly scrabble at the chairs we pass, hoping to slow our progress towards our final destination. All I manage to do is make a bit of a mess for the morning staff to ponder over and tidy up.

The backstage room is now officially my least favourite room in this joint, taking the top place from the right-hand corridor with its pathetic lighting. Chica had managed to surprise me down that corridor a few times because of the shoddy lighting. In contrast backstage had always been well lit enough for me to fully appreciate Bonnie's trips into that room. However now it was going to be the place of my death I think I am justified in down ranking it.

Bonnie manages to walk through the door with my feet easily, it takes Foxy and Freddy a few moments to figure out how to get the pair of them and my upper torso through the door. I try to again slow us down by gripping the doorframe.

They tear me through the doorway eventually, I lose some skin and blood on the painted frame and gain some splinters under my fingernails. I catch a glimpse of my watch, it's taken them five minutes to drag me down the hallway to get me immobilised in the backstage room.

Chica appears through the door and walks over to a locker in the corner, one located under the camera so I have never seen it before. It was most definitely in here when I had my tour at the beginning of the week, but I don't remember registering its existence. It's hard to ignore now as Chica opens it and withdraws a suit. In the dim emergency lighting I can't really see what it is supposed to be; only that it has dark fur of some kind.

The blasted bird turns the suit and helpfully peals the casing open exposing the wiring and structural frame inside. She moves to hold the arms upright while Foxy and Freddy do the same thing with me. How many poor suckers have they done this to before? Where did the guy on the phone go to if this happened to him?

I didn't have much more time to think of the plight of past people as they suddenly push me forward.

Pain flooded my brain as sharp metal edges tore through skin and muscle and scraped bone. My arms went numb within a few moments, only for the sadistic machines to ram my legs into the suit too, bringing a fresh wave of pain. How my brain hadn't been crushed in the process of my head being forced up into the cranial cavity I have no idea. All I know is I wished it had. The sheer amount of messages of pain being sent up to my brain meant it had practically ceased to function beyond letting me keep up a string of swear words.

Chica's smiling face swam in front of my face as the tears and blood distorted my vision. Smug bitch.

Seriously, how can anyone endure this much pain and stay alive? I'm a pretty big wimp, I know that, so how am I still conscious and alive?

Hang on; all four of them are in front of me now. How am I still upright?

What the fuck, I'm moving! Although I have no control over my limbs, both my actual ones and the fur-metal ones I've had forced on me, something is controlling me. I stand upright, no longer bent at the waist like I'm bowing to thank the sadistic bastards that did this to me. Perhaps it is a default stance of the suit, maybe the servos are built to always return to an upright position…

There's some kind of whispering around me. Is this death? Are the whispers a symptom of my brain shutting down?

Please let me die! It hurts, I don't want to live anymore…

I can finally see a clock, hanging just to the left of the camera.

5.55am.

So close…

**A/N: Hello all! Thanks for reading my story, I haven't tried to write a more horror orientated story before so I'm hoping you enjoy it. I apologize for any inaccuracies or errors in the story, I was struck with inspiration and really wanted to get this down and out there.  
>I am considering further one-shot chapters, almost as a story but not completely as it wouldn't really go anywhere… Plus I only really have three other ideas to cover so I'd be a bit stumped to try and create a coherent story that goes anywhere. So keep half an eye on this as future chapters will be posted, but not many.<strong>

**To clarify, the interlude section is voiced by two separate sides of Freddy. I am a believer in the theory that the suits were already powered by individual AIs but were used as stashing points for the bodies of the children. So I personally like to entertain the idea that the suits are almost schizophrenic in their thought processes: the dominant robot side that controls the suit, but also the small child's voice that still occasionally has power over the suit. One is the murderer that mercilessly slaughters you every time you run out of power, the other just wants to play and have fun!**

**And finally I do not own Five Nights at Freddy's, nor any characters. I do not have the courage to make horror films, all the rights go to Scott Cawthon!**


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